A Complete Guide to Rangering: In Ithlien
by goldleaves
Summary: Hannera is the only female ranger of Ithlien and she along with her crew have to fight against the dark forces of Sauron in both their own land of Ithlien and at the great city of Osgilaith
1. How to Make a Camp

A Complete Guide to Rangering

Part 1: In Ithlien

_According to Hannera_

* * *

**How to ... make a camp.**

There are many incorrect ways of making a camp, and only one correct way. However to get to this correct way one must have to go through the embarrassing procedure of going through _all_ of the incorrect ones, before losing your pride and finally asking for help. Sometimes a new ranger only takes a few wrong mistakes before he or she loses his or her pride.

But this wasn't the case for Boromir, son of Denethor, if my memory holds correct - and it always does. He had joined us one summer for a period of three weeks, it was a routine check of the army, making sure that we were working to the best of our abilities (which of course we were) and making sure we were keeping the Orcs out (which also we were).

He knew this, but it was routine, and so it meant that he had three weeks to look over us, and in general be a pain in the but. Not that I have anything against the man, deceased as he now is, It's just that for those three weeks he complained of the rain wetting him as he slept, of waking in mud, of finding ants in his shoes and of all other sorts of horrible things.

And that's when we noticed it.

Boromir could _not_ make a camp.

Whenever we stopped for the night, and made our own tents, or hammocks depending on the terrain and the weather, he would choose the absolute worst spot available, before ramming the tent pole into the ground, most likely breaking or seriously damaging it, and then rapidly he would throw the tent sheet over the top and forget to tie it down, before placing the soft and very thin mattress we bring along with us on the ground, straight on the ground (using the ground sheet as a blanket) and placing his boots, and armour on the anthills.

We watched him do this for two weeks, even his own brother did nothing to stop him, until we grew annoyed with his slow progress and with his complaints, he would do it differently every single night, and not once would he ask for help.

I know you may be asking, why wouldn't we help him? but that is the way we are, we are taught to ask for help if we need it, and to put away our pride, and not volunteer to help those that do not wish for it. I guess you can say that it is harsh of us, but we are very solitary people, and our only families - our true families, are the people that we patrol with.

I, myself, went through one of those times, where I was too prideful to ask for help - I believed that if I asked they would find it an excuse to say that I was incompetent and ensure that no other woman would ever join the rangers, which was exactly what the Lord Steward had wanted when I first applied, but the law had allowed me in (even if it was on probation) but I gave up my pride and the men that had once looked at me with disdain, became my comrades and brothers.

Getting back to the point of Boromir, after two weeks we had given up, and so one day when he had made camp (on the rocky part of the mountain side) and then gone off to bathe, we had up-rooted his tent and belongings and re-made it in the centre of the camp, just off of the fire-pit that was cooking our sausages on and we made it properly.

The top-sheet was tied to the soft grass of the ground, and using a secure pin it was dug into the soil. We then laid out the bottom sheet, ensuring that no water could get on top of it, and get his things muddy, before placing the mattress and blankets safely and securely in one corner, and then his packs, and armour (which by the way was in need of a scrubbing) in the opposite corner. In jest we placed a bar of_ athleas_ soap and a scrubbing brush on his shield, which we lay on his bed and returned to the fire-pit to wait.

Returning from the stream he wondered through the tents until he found his own, him being amazed that it had been moved, and proceeded to clean his shield - I gather he thought that he had done it himself and forgotten that he had moved it, the next morning he awoke bright and early and surprisingly chipper and proceeded to wake us up five hours before dawn for training.

Suffice it to say, we didn't help him make camp ever again.


	2. How to Fight Orcs

A Complete Guide to Rangering

Part 1: In Ithlien

_According to Hannera_

* * *

**How to ... fight Orcs.**

There is no skill in fighting orcs, nor in fighting men - however there is a skill in surviving a battle, a skill that some do not have. When I was in my first few years as a Ranger of Ithlien - I was placed in a patrol of five other men, we six were as close as could be. We were like brothers, despite the fact that I was a woman, they treated me like I was a man, something that I was immensely grateful for.

There was two brothers, two actual blood brothers - Hivon and Hiton. Identical twins with a humour so infectious they were loveable, it was impossible to hate them, and impossible to separate them. They would move in absolute silence through the woods except for maybe a quiet chuckle hear and there as they laughed at silent jokes only they could understand.

They had originally hailed from Minas Tirth, the sons of a baker, and when they had reached the age of sixteen, disguised themselves as older and joined the rangers. Though the army thought of them as older, it was a well known secret that they were in fact two years younger then they were supposed to be, but this lie never got out, and whenever we were inspected it was overlooked.

They were just too good to gotten rid of, they were the best archers in the whole company, and they were in my crew, in my little family and I was so proud of them.

Then there was Ivel. Ivel was the son of a ship-wright from Dol Amroth. And being from that sea country he had also inherited the elvish genes, and he was our axe-man. Tall and fierce he would slash open an Orc's head with a single blow from the axe with his incredible strength, but he was a silent man.

Despite his imposing stature and muscles, he was by far the kindest of the our crew, our brigade. At night, when we were on patrol, he would skin rabbits - using the meat for our dinner (nothing better than rabbit stew on a cold day in the middle of nowhere) and using the skins that he collected, he made us all travelling cloaks.

Brilliant cloaks made of rabbit fur, warm and soft and sturdy, I believe I still have mine, somewhere - he was a great and gentle man - but as I said he was incredibly silent, if he chose to speak you listened to him, for it must be important.

Then there was our tracker, Eomon. He wasn't actually a Gondorian, originally hailing from Rohan, he had been taught by his father how to scout and how to track silently over the plains of Rohan, and when he moved here after his father's death he soon adapted his knowledge to the workings of Ithlien.

No one knows why he moved to Gondor, for he says his father died when he was twelve, and we don't even know what happened to his mother, or about his family, only that he had ran away from it and became almost like a tramp living freely here. He didn't trust people that much, but when he did trust you - it was the best feeling in the world, he would always protect you no matter what, because you were his little brother.

And then there was the last member of our crew, and the most tragic of it - Kover. Kover was a third-generation ranger and he believed himself to be the best, and I guess you could have said that he was. He was the oldest of us all and he looked over us like he was the father and we his sons.

He would teach us how to do stupid things to pass the time, like how to weave, how to repair socks, even how to skip stones and how to cook edible food - he was by far the best cook in the whole company and would reward us with amazing meals made out of two-day old rabbit, a potato and grass. While the other patrols starved or where forced to eat disgusting stew's we were learning how to create something out of nothing.

He was above all the rest a teacher, he taught me everything ; how to hunt, how to cook, and how not to get over confident. Though I wish he had done so in not such a way.

We had been patrolling a more mountainous region of South Ithlien, when we came across a band of Orcs, they were sitting at a small crudely-made fire-pit, and there were only a few of them. We could see no weapons on them, and they looked to be only a dozen, we thought we were safe and he went charging in first (as always) however it turned out the whole of the hills had been swarming with orcs, and he was killed.

We managed to avenge him, killing all the orcs, getting severe injuries in the process, but we weren't in time to save him. And his death taught us a lesson, because from then on we always checked the hills around a camp for Orcs first before rushing into to attack, just in case of an ambush - and this method has saved our live, though I do wish we had learnt it in a less horrible way.


	3. How to Hunt in Ithlien

A Complete Guide to Rangering

Part 1: In Ithlien

_According to Hannera_

* * *

**How to ... hunt in Ithlien.**

Ithlien is a mix of mountainous terrain, swamps, forests and sometimes even almost desert-like plains. And so it is a very hard place to get anything other than rabbits (oh joy) however on occasion a Mumak would be brought through by the Haradim, before being killed and then we would suffer the hard, and tough meat of Mumak for months, especially if we salt it.

But on other days we manage to get one of the few deers. There are some of our company that call hunting a spiritual experience where it becomes just you and your prey, but I personally believe that hunting is just a natural way of life, just like it is natural for mothers to protect their cubs and for males to be protective of their mates.

However among our crew, I was known to be different (other than the fact I was a woman among only men) In that if I could avoid it, I wouldn't eat meat. My brothers thought it strange, and would tease me about it, and also tease me about the look of disgust I would get on my face when I would eat meat, but it's the way I am. I know it's natural - I just hate the taste of it.

I don't know why, but every time I ate meat, it would settle in my stomach like a ball of lead and I would feel dizzy and irritable for days, and if we happened to be living off salted Mumak for days on end, the crew would learn to avoid me when it looked like I was getting angry - I am ashamed of my behaviour in those days, but the taste of the meat unsettled me.

I don't have a problem about hunting, in fact I was best at it, I always managed to catch at least three rabbits, and would give them a quick and painless death, but I could never eat it. I had always been like this, even when I had been a small girl living in Osgilaith before it's capture, my mother and father would despair over me and think me sickly before hunting down and paying outrageous prices for fruit in winter so that I wouldn't starve.

However my inability to eat meat, did leave more meat for my brothers and sisters, as well as my parents, so they were partly grateful. At first they thought me difficult but I remember when Gandalf, the Mithrandir visited Osgilaith and met my parents - who had been trying to feed me deer, and he had told them that I was a_ 'tree-soul'_ whatever that meant, and that I could not bear the taste of meat.

I still don't understand why I hate the taste, but I do, extremely so.

I learnt the art of trapping and hunting from an old neighbour of ours at Osgilaith, he was an elderly man with a dark grey beard and only a little hair upon his head and bright, but old green eyes, he taught me how to make traps of rabbits and other animals saying _'ya might'a need it som'a'day' _and also how to capture the dirt snakes that slithered through the dusty city streets and how to kill it mercifully for he believed _'evun da evilest of cre'tures deserve a painless death - give mercy ta' all ya' can give it ta' und maybe un'day they'll give ya' some as well'_ I never knew his name and I remember hearing news of his death when we fled the city, but I will always remember what he taught me and what I learnt from him.

The most easiest way to make a trap is quite simple, luring an animal with food, though normally it requires food in the first place, you place a few scraps of vegetables, old lettuce or the like - vegetation, in a protected place with a wire so that as soon as the creatures moves it, his back leg is tied with a rope, and hangs three meters off the ground, so not to be eaten by other animals until our arrival to check on the traps.

Though one day, I caught a creature I had never before captured.

Faramir son of Denethor, Captain-General of the Rangers of Ithlien, and believe me it was embarrassing and also strangely quite amusing when I had to cut him down, as he hang upside down, his fingers barely touching the ground and he landed with a thud, which made me (and my crew shudder) and so he stood, dusted himself off and asked,

"Who made this trap?" and I gingerly raised my hand and said,

"I did sir"

"You?" he was surprised, I thought he was going to kick me out but instead he laughed, clapped me on the back and said

"Well done, Well done" and apparently I had impressed him with the subtleties of the trap and he bade me to teach him how I made it , and I attempted to do so, as I had done for the crew - but like my crew they couldn't understand, but with a sigh and another clap on the back he went, but only after saying,

"From now on, I promise not to go after half-rotten lettuce" and I guess he hasn't for I haven't found him hanging upside down from a tree since then, and that was my first experience with Faramir of Gondor.


	4. How to Fish

A Complete Guide to Rangering

Part 1: In Ithlien

_According to Hannera_

* * *

**How to ... fish.**

There are many small rivers and streams that run through Ithlien, and in them you can sometimes, if you are skilled enough find fish to eat instead of eating rabbits, of which live in abundance in the area, But fishing is not a practice normally exercised among the rangers, as it takes great patience and a long amount of time - both things that most rangers do not have (or maybe that is just my crew).

But on one of our long patrols along the riverside we decided that we were 'sick and tired of salted rabbit and wanted fish' thankfully I can eat fish and I agreed to this proposition happily, hoping to gather up a store of herbs from the riverside which I could eat on a later date, however that didn't happen.

We left the camp in the early morning and made fishing lines, merely our walking staff's horse's hair and some bait (which was worms) and we waited. We waited through out the morning when the sun came out and beat upon our heads and our backs with a ferocious heat, and then through the afternoon when the skies opened and the rain fell upon us, but we never gave up.

The rain stopped, after two hours, and still all we had caught was a piece of dog wood, and so I suppose we were all extremely miserable, until there was a tug at one of the lines, and then another, and then another and then another, and so all four lines were moving - and the four of us (Eomon had stayed at camp, refusing to go near the water - mainly because he can't swim) began to pull on our make shift rods.

The harder we each pulled, the harder the line did, and we all fell forward into the river in a massive splash, our rods flying everywhere and the line becoming clear to us - there was no fish, during the rain our lines had gotten mixed and so we were hungry, testy and completely and utterly wet. Cutting the lines, we abandoned fishing and made our way to the camp - where we found Eomon cooking about six fresh water trout.

He looked at us, in our water logged cloaks with a raised eye-brow and said, "spring" and didn't comment any further, and so wet and mortified we changed and went to eat the spoils of Eomon's fishing.

Since then we have learnt not to fish in large groups of people so close, but no matter the distance or where or when we fish, we always leave Eomon behind and he always seems to get more fish than we do. I once tried to follow him, but that night we didn't have any fish, so we've learnt to always stay on his good side and to never tease him about his inability to swim - for as Ivel said once "Never make an enemy of the man that feeds you" and we always pay attention to what Ivel says.


	5. How to Walk Silently

A Complete Guide to Rangering

Part 1: In Ithlien

_According to Hannera_

* * *

**How to ... walk silently.**

One of the most important things that a prospective ranger needs to know how to do is walk through a forest or bush silently, this is an important skill that takes many years - unless you happen to be part elvish like Iven. We were taught during active duty, so I guess you could say we had a steep learning curve.

I once met a man that could walk so silently that not even the wind could hear him - he was a great man, I hated him. Well that's a bit harsh of me to say but it's true, he was one of the greatest of all the rangers, smart, fierce and protective but he was incredibly traditional, my admittance to the rangers rubbed him the wrong way and he did whatever he could to get me kicked out.

One of these times, was actually on my first patrol, he was my 'mentor' except he didn't do much mentoring instead he spent most of the time complaining over something that I had no say or cause in, but still he blamed me. I knew that if I said something or did something it would give him cause to kick me out, so I remained silent.

We were walking through a few trees when we found the unmistakable tracks (and stench) of Orcs and despite the fact that we were only out as scouts and not with a crew - he decided that we could take them, I think that it was some sort of test, and to this day I don't know if I passed it or failed it.

He circled them silently, and attacked them from behind, while I however distracted them, by stepping on a twig making give a huge 'crack' and it turns out there were more than we had thought, we were not ready for them, and we could not possibly get out of there without dying, or some sort of injury.

I was lucky in that, I had my double-edged sword, and was proficient with it, and that there was the space to swing it, and I managed to make my way to him, as he was surrounded and he only had a short broad-sword and no shield. I gave him my shield - he had sneered at the beginning of the patrol when he saw it, but I guess he takes a shield with him at all times now.

We escaped from the orcs and made our way back to the central camp, avoiding and losing the orcs who were on our tail in the process. He had a broken leg, and wrist and I had a graze to the forehead. While we were recovering we spoke, and he actually said something nice about me, the first thing he said to me, instead of at me, and it was nice ... I was thrilled, that was until he opened his mouth again,

"But you're walking could wake a dead Mumak"


	6. How to Capture Hobbits

A Complete Guide to Rangering

Part 1: In Ithlien

_According to Hannera_

* * *

**How to ... capture Hobbits.**

Hobbits, are interesting creatures. They are small, barely half the size of a man and normally with curly hair. They have flat feet covered in thick hair. They are the most interesting of creatures, as I have already said, in that despite their small stature they eat far more meals than a normal man does, and are in fact quite intelligent no matter what they look like.

I first met one of these interesting creatures when I was in my seventh year as a ranger, and in those days it was dark and gloomy with constant attacks of Orcs and Harad's and then the almost eternal shadow flung high above us, like dark and menacing clouds blocking the sun from our eyes, and from everything that live on the earth.

We were trekking through the more mountainous region of Ithlien, were the soil is barren and there is little cover, and rocks as far as they eye can see. I always hated those patrols, they were the longest and most tiring but they had to be done, so me and my crew - my brothers in arms, we were jumping from rock outcrop to rock outcrop and that is when we saw it, the unmistakable look of a camp, and so we drew near.

It was like any camp made by those with limited materials and by someone with a lot of experience, probably because of distance and time spent travelling, but why would any man be out here? all knew that this land was infested by orcs, all knew that this land was part of the empire of Mordor (though for a short while) and that there was a short camp in front of us.

So we silently surrounded the camp, and captured two creatures, one of our patrol spotting another grotesque thing in the shadows further ahead, and he followed after it. We took our captives back to the camp, but on the way I began to notice that someone was following us, well more than one someone's - and looking from the corner of my eyes I could see that my fellows had also noticed this.

But no one moved to do anything about it, and so neither did I. It was later in the cool damp of our cavern camp that we were taught about Hobbits and the Shire, and I learnt about the heavy burden that the hobbit - Frodo, wore about his neck - The Ring of Power, I could feel it calling to me, and I'm sure that everyone else did too, but for the look of fear and understanding present on Frodo's face I retreated into the shadows.

I would not become a monster, I would not hurt that hobbit - and I didn't. Later that night we learned of the hobbit's guide - Smeagol, the detestable creature that children have nightmares about, and are warned of by their parents 'don't do anything bad - or else the Gollum will get you' that's what they used to say to us, and we believed them until we grew older and stopped believing everything that our parents said - but seeing his twisted limbs, his sharp teeth and his piercing moon like eyes I believed again - I believed that this creature could and if it wanted to would kill me.

What are these dark days in which something as innocent as a hobbit carry's the ring of power? and something as evil and twisted, and pitiful, as Gollum is their guide? they should not have trusted that beast - for I saw in his eyes a hunger for the ring, and yet I did nothing.

Later that night, I also learned that there was another in their party, the one that I had sensed following us, an elf - she shifted through the shadows and joined us around a fire when she realized that the hobbits were in no danger.

She introduced herself as Narilwen, of the elves of the grey-havens. Never have I seen the moonlit beauty of an elf so fair, there are tales that the Arwen Undominel is the fairest of all elves, as she is like the setting sun - but Narilwen's beauty is like a calm sea under a full moon, and her voice is soft and fair - but her eyes pierce into your soul and she judges you.

Are you worthy? I hear in my head, Am I worthy? What am I worthy of - I ask myself, why does she judge me like she is the oar-master of death preparing to take me to the halls of Mando's, cloaked in black, her face hooded- Are you worthy? Are you ready?

And I wonder who is she really? This Narilwen of the grey-havens, what is she looking for in me and the others? I would never find out, but that night I slept under the ever watchful eyes of the elf.


	7. How to Make Friends

A Complete Guide to Rangering

Part 1: In Ithlien

_According to Hannera_

* * *

**How to ... make friends.**

When we awoke the next morning, the hobbits were still there - of course they were - we had guards watching them through out the night, but I was surprised, for I had been almost certain that the elf, being free, would help them to escape, but when I looked up she was still there, sitting - thinking, and whatever she was thinking of was incredibly sad.

I don't know why I knew this, I just knew - the very air around her was sad, like she was making a decision or had made a decision that she knew would hurt someone, a decision that she knew though right wasn't the one she had wanted to make.

It was the sort of sadness, that you feel when you know that you are doomed, and that you've accepted it but you can't change it, and at that time, I didn't know, I didn't know what would make her feel that way, but I knew the feeling, and so for the rest of the day, and the days that followed when we travelled with them to Osgiliath and before their release I became her friend.

And I am proud to say that I was her friend when we met once again, but that is a story for another time, It wasn't easy becoming her friend - she didn't trust anyone - but I could understand that especially with what their quest was about and during the times that we were in, but she humoured me and soon she told me stories about her home, and I was glad and I told her of my own home.

I was born in Andrast far to the west of where we were, the westernmost point of Gondor, and I loved the sea, but like Dol Amroth we were plagued by Corsairs and my family destroyed and I had fled east, into Ithlien and I had been a ranger there ever since, she had seemed sympathetic at my loss, and I gathered that though her own father still lived on - they weren't as close as they had used to be, and her mother had gone to Valinor, for she refused to tell me their names.

But she also had a love of the sea and for all of the peoples that lived on Middle-earth, whether Elf, Dwarf, Man or Hobbit - she cared for them all, and that was why she was here - why she had gone against her father's wishes (again I'm speculating) and gone on a journey into the deeps of Mordor to destroy the Ring of Power.

Though we only knew each other for those few short days, I gained a lot of respect for the elves, and for her and I made a friend, and I was so sad when we had to say goodbye - for I really thought it would be for the first and last time.


	8. How to Disobey Orders

A Complete Guide to Rangering

Part 1: In Ithlien

_According to Hannera_

* * *

**How to ... disobey orders.**

We were in the wilderness once more when we gained word that Osgiliath was under attack so we sped there, hoping against hope that all would be well, our hope was mis-placed.

When we arrived there, there was barely a squadron of men there, preparing to fight against the hundreds and thousands of Orcs and Southerners and Mordorians that were covering the city, but we fought and Oh how we fought.

For hours, and days we fought without sleep, for we did tire, but we struggled on and on and we did not rest once, people were muttering about what would have been done if 'Boromir was here' but we knew that Boromir would never return to Gondor and would never return to Minas Tirth as a hero with a great fan fare and while they spoke like that we stood away from them - and I guess they thought us aloof and distant and contempt grew between the groups.

Because of the number of regular soldiers in Osgiliath we, the rangers, were seperated and placed in their groups - I was placed in a group with five other normal soldiers and they glared at me and they leered at me and called me weak and their 'captain' was the worst of them all and I hated no man than I did him.

So I ignored him and when he 'ordered' me to do something so gross and vile and wrong I said no and when he went to strike me, I hit him and knocked him unconscious, the others in the group had gotten used to me and we had a grudging respect for each other, but after they heard what their 'captain' had ordered me to do, they sided with me and when I knocked him under and hid him where no one would step on him they cheered and congratulated me.

We became fast friends in those days, and we never saw from our 'captain' again in Osgiliath, but we did see him in the future - but again that is a different story for a different time.

So we fought and fought and when the order was called to evacuate we did so, and my group caught up with Captain Faramir's and it was then that we saw that he was injured and concerned we stayed by his side the whole way to Minas Tirth and there we parted for our own bases - theirs at the mess hall, and mine at my captain's side.


	9. How to Greet a Steward

A Complete Guide to Rangering

Part 1: In Ithlien

_According to Hannera_

* * *

**How to ... greet a steward.**

There are many ways that one would great their king or queen, but the formal greeting concerning a steward is much more complicated in that there is no traditional formal way, however this sometimes leads to animosity from said steward if he believes you aren't greeting him with enough respect.

When Steward Denethor II walked into his son's room in the Houses of Healing, he was distraught but we all immediately stood and bowed, to varying degrees and he looked at us with his cold eyes and appraised our muddy and blood-stained clothes,

"Out" he said, "Out - I do not wish you here to muddy and stink up my only surviving son's chambers" and sharing looks we left slowly, and as we left the Houses of Healing I noticed that there was another Hobbit there, and saying goodbye to the others I spoke with him.

"Hello, master Hobbit"

he looked up confused at me, "Do I know you my - lady?" he seemed to belatedly realise that I was not in fact a man,

"No, but I know of you, master Pippin of the Took's of the Shire"

"How, may I ask?"

"Just less than a week ago I met two other Hobbits and Elf, and we spoke - their names were Samwise Gamgee and a mister Baggins - Frodo Baggins"

"You've seen Frodo? How was he?" Pippin called, almost jumping in excitement and I fear I let a grin onto my normally blank face, at his exuberance.

"Yes master Pippin, I have indeed see Frodo, he was well and well in the care of his two companions"

"That is good- that is very good indeed" I heard another person say and turned to see that Gandalf was standing there,"Mithrandir! you've returned to Gondor"

"Yes, my child, I have" he allowed a fond smile to lift his face,

"Are you going to help us?"

"Yes, I am - now you must go and rest for I fear you are weary" and as if on cue I yawned,

"Yes, I fear I am - good day Mithrandir, Master Pippin"


	10. How to Save a Life

A Complete Guide to Rangering

Part 1: In Ithlien

_According to Hannera_

* * *

**How to ... save a life.**

When the riders sent word that Osgiliath was over-run, Denethor - steward of Gondor, was enraged and in his fury he sent out his son, and rangers to defend and re-capture the city, even though he knew it to be a folly.

The battle for Osgiliath was terrible and bloody and horrible and most died. Injured we carried Faramir back to Minas Tirth.

When we returned to Minas Tirth, Lord Denethor was waiting for us, still and gloomy and despite the fact that we could faintly see the slight breath in his chest and feel the pulse in his neck he would not believe us and thought him dead. He ordered Faramir to be taken from us and washed and dressed in his best.

Then he was taken into the great burial chambers of the old kings, high in the citadel and we all watched in growing horror as Denethor began to light his son's pyre.

"No" called Pippin, and he rushed forward to save Faramir but was beaten off by Denethor who spoke thusly,

"Why do you dis-honour my son? He should be honoured with a funeral for a king ... why do you deny me this?" and we knew then that he had indeed lost his mind and sharing a look, we charged the guards and took down Faramir, but we were not soon enough to save his father, the steward as he fell to the flames and died in the fire that was meant for his son.

That day we had saved the life of our captain but in that day we had also lost our leader. We were alone and without hope until it arrived from Rohan and we could only hope that they would come.


	11. How to Realise you're in Love

A Complete Guide to Rangering

Part 1: In Ithlien

_According to Hannera_

* * *

**How to ... realise you're in love.**

As we watched over the lord Faramir during those days I began to think over my time in his service, and my time knowing him and being his friend. He had always been - even at the beginning - a great man, always ready to bear your burdens and be at your side and listen to your ideas ... and I've always thought that he would have been such a better leader than Boromir.

That is not to say that Boromir wasn't a great man, for he was - he was noble and loyal and smart in the skills of war, but he grew up under his father's thumb too much, unlike Faramir who was under the tutelage of Mithrandir. I believe that this gave Faramir an advantage for no one who learnt from Mithrandir himself, from an early age, would ever forget the equality of men and women and the power of hope and freedom.

But as I was thinking of this, I also remembered all the times when we had scouted together, where he had been forced to stand so close to me that I could feel his breath on my neck and the heat of his body behind me, as we tried to avoid the detection of Orcs' nearby. I blushed then just htinking about it and I suddenly realised then that what I had always thought of friendship wasn't.

I wasn't merely friends with him...

I was in love with him.

I was in love with the way he smiled, and the way he talked and laughed and the way that he did everything.

I was in love with Faramir - steward of Gondor.


End file.
